


they know you walk like you're a god (they can't believe I made you weak)

by quakeriders



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, F/M, Hand Jobs, Mating Bond, Multiple Orgasms, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Strap-Ons, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 04:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: "On your hands and knees, high lord." Something sparked in those violet eyes and the words from years ago echoed between them;I will bow to no one and nothing but my crown."As you wish, high lady." Rhys replied, his voice thick with an emotion that made the bond between them pull tighter.or: the one in which Feyre thoroughly fucks Rhysand until he is for once speechless.





	they know you walk like you're a god (they can't believe I made you weak)

**Author's Note:**

> title inspo: strange love - halsey
> 
> this is basically a self indulgent mess that was brought on by the utter lack of pegging fics in this fandom. so, i treated myself to one and maybe someone might want to get in on that action.

The first time Feyre saw the shop was when she and Mor were out searching a birthday gift for Elain. It was small, tucked in a far corner of one of the palaces and she would have missed it, had it not been for the giggling faerie leaving it with a brown bag clutched beneath her arm and a slight flush in her cheeks.

Mor had seen her attention wander to the displays in the window and huffed out a laugh. "You won’t find a present for Elain in _there_." She had remarked and at Feyre’s arched brow had pulled her a little closer to inspect the inventory.

The sight in the display had knocked the breath out of Feyre and she knew that her eyes were wide in surprise and wonder when she had spoken, "Are those what I think they are?"

Mor had just chuckled again and pulled her towards one of their preferred jewellers.

—

The next time her attention had drifted to the shop, Feyre was alone.

And that time, she swallowed her nervousness and pride and had entered the shop.

She had kept her hood on, her face was recognisable enough as high lady and had taken in the various toys on the many surfaces in the shop.

When the shopkeeper had approached her, Feyre had politely excused herself and left with her heart hammering in her chest.

—

The third time she stood before the shop, Feyre had squared her shoulders, lowered her hood and had entered with her chin held high.

She had talked to the shopkeeper that time.

And she had left with a bag of her own.

—

It seemed that world travelled fast in Velaris.

And faster still, if your mate was the high lord and a daemati.

Feyre had barely reached the townhouse, when she felt a tap at her mental shields. A polite request.  She let Rhys in and his voice filled her head.

_Been busy shopping, Feyre darling?_ He asked in a carefully neutral tone. Despite it, she could feel the wicked amusement flowing between them and she had to roll her eyes as she took off her coat and made her way up to their bedroom.

_Busybody._ She shot back, closing the door behind her softly and placing the bag on their bedside table.

A soft chuckle echoed inside her mind, sending shivers through her and making her toes curl.

_Pray tell, what did the high lady of the night court buy from that wicked little shop?_

She scowled and debated sending him an image of her purchase, but decided against it. _Why don’t you come home and find out?_ She replied instead, her voice taunting.

If she had to be honest, she was a little unsure of her purchase and the desire that had crept up in her at the sight of item in the shop. She didn’t know how Rhys would react and on her way home, she had debated throwing it in the Sidra and acting like nothing had happened.

Her insecurity must have crept across the bond to him, because Rhys sent back a wave of calm and those talons scraped teasingly at her walls. _Whatever it is, my love, I’m sure I will be equally enthusiastic about it._

She relaxed a little at that. _And when might we find out?_

_Soon. I’m almost finished with Devlon and the others._

—

It took him three hours to come home.

In those three hours, Feyre’s excitement and nervousness reached new heights and he found her lounging on the sofa with a book and a glass of wine in her hands.

It was her third one and it had helped calm her fluttering nerves, even spreading a slight tingling warmth in her belly, but at the sight of her mate with his windswept hair and flushed cheeks, her heart began pounding anew.

Rhys leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk tugging at his lips. "I expected to find you in our bedroom, darling." He said by way of greeting.

Feyre only chugged the last bit of her wine and placed the empty glass on the table before her. She carefully placed a mark between the pages of the book and placed it next to the glass. Then, she rose to her feet and slowly walked over to him.

"Welcome home." She whispered and reached her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a slow, languid kiss that tasted of wine and wind.

He returned the kiss and when his tongue pushed against her lips, she pulled away. He let out a low whine but she just patted his cheek lightly. "Are you hungry?"

He shook his head. "Cassian threatened to beat my ass if we left the camp without eating."

Feyre smiled at that. "Good."

Then she twined her fingers between his and pulled him up the stairs. He followed her, silent as a cat and she could feel his gaze between her shoulder blades, heavy and full of question.  She ignored it for the track to their bedroom and only when she ushered him inside and she shut the door behind them, did she face him again.

But Rhys’ attention had gone to the bag on the nightstand and she could feel his curiosity peaking.

She gave him a small smile and inclined her head. "Look inside if you like."

He moved at once, barely needing two steps until his hands uncurled the bag and pried it open. He peeked inside and his pulse of surprise washed over her through the bond.

Her smile widened when she could detected nothing but delight as he inspected the contents. "Why, Feyre darling, I never knew you had such depraved desires."

She huffed out a laugh and closed the distance between them. "You’re- You’re okay with it?"

Finally, he looked at her, lifting a single brow. "Okay with it? I’m pretty sure, I will love every second of it."

Feyre laughed again and reached for the bag to pull out the  harness inside. The straps were made of soft, supple leather and in the shape of underwear. However the thick, shapely cock attached to it left little to the imagination when it came to its purpose.

Feyre had taken one look at it that second time in the shop and the image of herself towering over Rhys had send a thrill of pleasure through her. She sent that image down the bond now and listened as Rhys sucked in a breath.

"Wicked thing." He breathed and reached for the glass bottle filled with a thick, oily fluid. He flipped open the bottle and took a whiff of the contents. Even from a few steps apart, Feyre could smell the faint scent of jasmine wafting from it and a slight smile tugged on his lips.

"Tell me, since when have you been planning this?" He asked, his voice lower now, laced with a need that raised the hairs on her arms.

Feyre let her fingers drift over the cock, noting how its surface was smooth but the material firm and unyielding beneath. She didn’t know what they had used to make it, but she didn’t really care. Not now.

"It’s been a couple months." She admitted finally and dropped the harness on the bed and took the bottle from his hands. She flipped the lid back on and placed it on the bedside table. "Are you sure, you want this?"

"Are you?" He replied easily and Feyre rolled her eyes, waiting for his proper response.

With a sigh, he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her close enough that their foreheads touched. "I trust you, Feyre. And I know you’re aware about how turned on I am right now."

Still. She always felt insecure about testing new things in the bedroom that left him at her mercy. She didn’t want to let her thoughts drift towards his past, but could already feel his own thoughts following her.

He just pressed his lips against the tip of her nose and whispered again, "I trust you. I will gladly yield control to you. Only you."

_I’m yours._ He said into her mind. And her heart swelled and her own hands wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

"And I’m yours." She muttered against his lips, then kissed him until both of their breathing became ragged.

She could pinpoint the exact moment Rhys finally let go of the dark thoughts that would perhaps haunt him forever. His fingers tightened against her skin and he pushed his hips into hers, pressing his hardening cock into her warmth.

A rough moan escaped Feyre at that and she finally let go of his lips. "None of that, tonight." She told him, her lips pulling up wickedly.

Rhys’ returning smile was a thing of beauty. Dark and wicked and full of promise. "Sure about that?"

The challenge in his tone made her blood boil and she reached for a tendril of her power and their clothes vanished with half a thought.

Rhys chuckled. "Eager, are we?"

She didn’t deign to reply. Instead she placed her hands on his shoulders, fingers splaying and pushing him on the bed. He let her do it, sinking into the sheets with a soft groan as something dug into his thigh.

He twisted, pulling the harness away from underneath him and Feyre let out a chuckle. "Who’s the eager one, now?"

He just tossed the item aside and settled further on the bed. "So, Feyre darling, how do you want me?"

She was taken aback by his words for a second before she collected herself enough to raise her hand and twirl her fingers. "On your hands and knees, high lord."

Something sparked in those violet eyes and the words from years ago echoed between them; _I will bow to no one and nothing but my crown._

"As you wish, high lady." Rhys replied, his voice thick with an emotion that made the bond between them pull tighter.

She watched as he twisted, his movements powerful and elegant, until he was indeed on his hands and knees. However his face was tilted up, looking at her with that smirk of his that seemed to be asking if this was all she got.

It just managed to spur her on.

She grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and walked around their enormous bed until she was on the other side of the room. Rhys silently turned his head, tracking her movements.

She got on the bed, mattress dipping beneath her weight as she kneeled behind him. The sight of the back of his thighs, his ass, his bare shoulders stretched before her, made her mouth water. But the sight felt incomplete.

He felt incomplete.

She sent a single word down the bond, _wings,_ and watched in amazement as they erupted from his shoulder blades, unfurling and stretching to their full length. Rhys cracked his neck and tucked his wings in tightly. She felt the edge of them brush against her thighs and both of them let out a soft hiss of pleasure at the contact.

Rhys did it again, moving one wing so that its membrane gently brushed against her skin again and again. Softly, teasingly. She let him do it until she could feel heat pooling between her legs and could have sworn she heard his nostrils flare.

"Stop that." She reprimanded him, reaching out and dragging a finger down said wing, nail softly scratching in a way that made him arch his back.

He snapped with wing back and Feyre let out a soft chuckle. "Two can play this game, Rhysand."

And then she shuffled closer, letting the bottle drop into the sheets beside her and reaching for his wings. She had touched them so many times now, had learned which spots were the most sensitive and how much pressure would earn the best responses from her mate.

So, she pressed her own thighs against the back of his, a silent promise of what was to come, and leaned down to caress the place between his shoulder blades where his wings joined his body.

"Fuck." Rhys groaned and she felt rather than saw his arms shaking. She let her hands trail up the ridge of bone and membrane and slid her hands up the arch of his wings until she found the talons on the apex of them. She ran her fingers over the sharp tips, savouring the feel of them and then, she splayed her fingers, all ten of them digging into the soft membrane and applying enough pressure that Rhys bucked his hips beneath her.

She could feel the words on the tip of his tongue; could see the fingers curled in the sheets and smiled softly to herself.

A small part of her wanted to flip him on his back and put her mouth on the cock that was surely hard as granite by now. But the bigger part had her reaching for the bottle beside her foot.

With one hand still roaming over his wings, pushing and pulling at them just enough that Rhys was beginning to pant, his arms shaking as his control over his body slipped, she flipped open the bottle.

She brought her other hand up to pour some of the contents into her hands. It was a creamy substance that felt liquid yet not against her skin. She gently massaged it into her fingers and slid one hand back to his wings to stop his whining and gently ran the other over the curve of his ass.

She dipped one finger to the rim of his ass, her touch featherlight and probing. Rhys flexed instinctively at the touch, cursing softly.

She almost asked if he wanted her to stop but then he was pushing back against her, urging her to go on.

Feyre smiled to herself, gently running a finger in circles on his wings and echoing the movement at his ass. He relaxed almost immediately and Feyre bit her lip and pushed into him. Not far, just the tip of her finger, feeling the tightness and easing her way into him.

"Shit." Rhys barked, pushing against that finger. "Fuck. Shit."

Feyre pushed deeper so slowly that she could feel his muscles clenching, working to allow her entrance.

"I won’t break." He told her, his voice sounding like he was already wrecked with pleasure. Feyre obliged him by sinking that solitary finger into him until it wouldn’t go any deeper. She gently curled her finger, mimicking the way he had moved in her that first time and earned a low groan from him.

She began pumping that finger in and out until the muscles didn’t clench around her so tightly that it almost felt uncomfortable. Then she pulled her finger out, listening as Rhys’ breath hitched at the loss of contact.

"Shh." Feyre cooed and added a second finger.

"Fuck, yes." Rhys groaned and his wings flared as his hips pushed against her, begging her to give him _more, more, more_.

Her two fingers sunk into him far more easily than she had anticipated. She crooked them inside him and felt Rhys go stiff and pliant all at once against her. And finally, his arms gave out and his chest slumped against the mattress.

With his face pressed into the sheets, his cries of pleasure were muffled. Feyre gripped his hip with the hand that had been teasing his wings and pulled him closer towards her.

And then she eased her fingers back out until nothing but the tips of them remained inside and plunged back in again.

A low, deep groan rippled from Rhys and a wave of pleasure, so overwhelming it stole her breath, washed across the bond towards her that Feyre pressed her own thighs together for some friction.

She added a third finger, teasing him open until her fingers slid easily in and out of him.

"Just fuck me already." Rhys muttered into the pillows and Feyre was sure she’d never heard anything so sexy in her life.

She slipped her fingers out of him and reached for the harness. Rhys lifted onto his elbows, twisting slightly to watch her work. His cheeks were flushed, pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked wholly black and lips swollen from where he had bitten down on them roughly.

The sight was almost enough for her to climax then and there.

She finished buckling the straps and adjusting to the unfamiliar weight on her hips. Then she picked up the bottle again and applied a generous amount of the fluid on her cock. She might have made a bit of a show out of it because Rhys was tracking the way her hands were moving over the dark toy.

"I believe, I told you to get on your hands and knees." She reminded him and he huffed out a breath, lifting himself back onto his hands and spreading his legs without her telling him to do so.

At the sight of her cock aligned with his ass, Feyre swallowed a groan of pleasure and gently guided herself into him.

She pushed in bit by bit. Not being able to feel the give of his muscles, she was feeling more cautious than before, but she swiftly reached out across the bond between them and asked to be let in.

Rhys let his shield drop almost instantly and the intense pleasure he was feeling washed over her like a summer rain. She could feel the slight pain at the stretch, but felt his eagerness for more.

So, Feyre indulged him. Gripping him by the hips, she pushed deeper, feeling the pleasure of being filled so thoroughly right beside him.

Once she was fully seated in him, she stopped moving, allowing him to adjust to the fullness that threatened to overwhelm him. She could feel the throbbing ache in his cock, the spine tingling pleasure at the knowledge that this was his mate making him feel like this and a wave of such love for and devotion to her that made her throat constrict and tears prickle in her eyes.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by bursting into tears, Feyre pulled out slightly and pushed back into him. Rhys groaned, not bothering to keep his voice down anymore and Feyre did it again. And again and again.

Each time she pushed back into him it was easier and she finally allowed herself to pick up the pace. Her own clit was throbbing, aching for friction but she could put off her need for now. The sounds that Rhys was making were enough to make her toes curl and blood pound into her core relentlessly.

"Please." Rhys gasped. "Feyre, please. Harder. Faster."

Her fingers dug deep into his skin as she pulled back and snapped her hips back into him. Rhys’ wings flared and he let out a cry as she pounded into him again.

"Like that?" She asked him, her own voice rough.

He replied in her mind. _Yes, yes, yes, yes, just like that. Please._

And the last word was such a broken plea, that Feyre began moving faster, began pushing harder until her muscles were straining and sweat was gliding down her body and she had to bite her lip to keep her rhythm from faltering.

Rhys’ breath came in ragged gasps and Feyre slid one of her hands from his hip and up to his wings. At the first brush of her finger to that most sensitive spot, Rhys slammed his hips against hers with such crushing force that she almost fell on her ass.

She let her nail drag over his wing and she could feel the pleasure that tore from his spine and right to his cock. Rhys came with another groan, but Feyre didn’t stop moving. She slowed her pace, but didn’t lift her hand from his wing and Rhys’ voice was hoarse and thick with pleasure when he fell into the sheets again, his shoulders shaking, telling her he loved her.

At the sight of him so utterly wrecked, Feyre slowed.

_No, don’t stop. Keep going. Please._ He said into her mind and she knew that he hadn’t spoken because words had finally failed him.

So, she did. She kept moving inside of him, eliciting soft whines from him until every thrust, send a spark of blinding pleasure through their bond. She didn’t know how long he could endure it but felt him growing hard again as she fucked him into the mattress.

"Turn around." She told him, but didn’t wait for him to move first.

She tugged on his arm, helping him to turn and saw the sticky mess that covered him and the sheets. Once he was on his back, she settled between his legs, kneeling before him and pushed into him again. His cock was between them, twitching at each thrust and his wings shifted beneath him.

Rhys’ eyes were shut tightly, his lips parted as he panted with each thrust.

"Look at me."

His eyes flashed open and Feyre wanted nothing but to lean down and kiss him. But— but, she knew her mate and herself. If she pressed her lips to his, she would loose her rhythm and the flashes of pure bliss that kept coming from Rhys were enough for her to grit her teeth and keep working him.

Unable to reach his wings now, she opted for the next best thing.

His cock.

She wrapped one slicked up hand around it and after a few strokes, matched her movements there with her movements inside him.

Rhys’ eyes were open and black as night as he watched her work and she knew that one day she would have to paint the sight of him like this. Utterly wrecked and utterly at her mercy.

His cock throbbed beneath her fingers and when he was biting his lip again, she knew that he was close. Could feel it in her skin and bones. She picked up her pace, pounding into him faster than ever, her hand echoing the movement on his cock. And then he was coming again, his seed spurting out of him in hot, sticky waves, coating her fingers and his stomach. But what made her finally stumble was the pleasure rolling over her in relentless waves. Their shields had dropped and Feyre wasn't sure if she was only feeling his pleasure or if the feeling had finally tipped her own body over the edge.

She stopped moving as Rhys’ body went limp under her.

Feyre eased out of him gently, heart racing, and reached over to place he soft kiss on his brow.

Then she unbuckled the harness from her hips and let herself fall beside him on the bed.

"That—" Rhys muttered after a while. "That was amazing."

Feyre huffed out a laugh, tucking into his side and trailing soft touches down his back. "I know. We should do it again, sometime."

Rhys let out a soft, wrecked laugh and nodded against her neck. "Oh, most definitely."


End file.
